


Christmas Ficlets 2k14

by nateyface



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Santa & Elves, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Crack, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, M/M, Mistletoe, will update the tags as fics are finished and posted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nateyface/pseuds/nateyface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short Christmas fics prompted by followers at <a href="http://ryanslostfootage.tumblr.com">ryanslostfootage</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ramwood 'Naughtiness'

**Author's Note:**

> Anon said: ramwood christmas naughtiness please? c:

“Okay, Ryan, time for your present.” Geoff stops in front of their bedroom door. “Wait here, I gotta get it ready. Stay the fuck still.” He darts inside and shuts the door firmly behind him. Ryan leans carefully toward the door and presses his ear to it, but other than general shuffling noises, there’s no real hint of what’s going on inside. After a short wait, he catches Geoff cursing quietly as he moves around the room.

“You okay?” he asks cautiously. Geoff doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Okay! I mean - yes!” comes the muffled reply at last. Ryan laughs and leans against the doorframe. “It’s ready. You better not laugh, motherfucker.” Ryan takes a deep breath to steady his expression and - hopefully - keep it from showing too much amusement before opening the door.

At first, it doesn’t quite register what the idea is. There isn’t anything new in the room, and Geoff isn’t wearing anything new...

Well. At first glance. As the image sinks in, Ryan starts to grin. Geoff is lounging on their bed, nearly naked save the Santa hat on his head and the ribbon on his cock. He may have warned Ryan not to laugh, but he should have warned him not to dive for the bed instead. It’s all he can do not to pounce on him right away.

“Damn.” Ryan runs a hand through his hair and just drinks in Geoff’s relaxed pose, half-hard dick, lazy smile. “That is a sweet present, Geoff. What ever am I going to do with something so extravagant?” He approaches the bed with a broad smile. Geoff shifts his hips in a suggestive gesture.

“I dunno, suck it or somethin’?” Ryan laughs and sits beside him, beginning to explore his exposed skin with teasing fingers.

“I might just do that.” He pushes Geoff onto his back and relaxes between his legs. “Damn, this is a fine gift.” Ryan trails kisses along his lover’s thighs and teases the creases of his hips.

“Shit, Ryan...” Geoff sighs and tries to just relax, but he’s already hard and his ribbon is tight around his cock. “That’s so good, fuck...”

Ryan smirks against Geoff’s skin and nips playfully at him, making him jump. “Sorry, you just look delicious.” He kisses the offended spot and leaves a few fond licks along his way toward Geoff’s erection. Ryan wants to bury his face in hot flesh, devour Geoff’s faintly salty skin, tease every curve and crease and plain from the man’s knees to his hips. Geoff is a gorgeous package just begging to be unwrapped slowly, unraveled like the tangled knot of thoughts he so frequently wound himself into.

The air is thick and sweet and humming with erotic tension as Ryan showers attention over his lover. His lips leave wet kisses and red suckling marks behind as he moves, drawing long, impatient moans from deep in Geoff’s throat. Wet heat washes over Geoff’s skin as Ryan breathes, and both of them shiver.

“Ryan, please...” Geoff’s voice is scarcely more than a whisper. His cock throbs with need, precum pearling at the tip. “Fuck, Ryan, just suck it.”

Ryan licks a stripe up the underside of Geoff’s needy erection. “I’m not sure you’re ready.” He kisses a trail down the side of the shaft and meets his lips with his hand to cup Geoff’s balls and kiss them slowly. Geoff grabs for Ryan’s hair, gripping tight, urging him on, but Ryan stays on his even pace.

“I swear to Christ I will kill you, Ryan, I need you to suck my cock so hard right now.”

“Hmm...” Ryan gingerly licks the drop of precum from his head with just the tip of his tongue. “I suppose I could...” He makes a show of thinking about it. “If you want it that badly.”

Geoff groans. “You fucking piece of shit.”

The statement is almost lost as Ryan wraps his mouth smoothly around Geoff’s cock, swallowing it to the base. He pulls away oh-so-slowly and grins up at Geoff.

“That, just do that for, like, ever,” Geoff urges. He scrambles to remove his own ribbon, but Ryan pushes his hands away.

“Let me unwrap my present, Geoffrey.” Ryan takes his lover’s dick in again, meeting the ribbon at the base, and carefully begins to pull at the fabric with his teeth. He slides it a little, pulls away for a breath, and dives back in to go again. His firm hands have to hold Geoff’s hips, keeping him from bucking into his mouth as he works.

At long last, the ribbon slides from Geoff’s cock, and Ryan backs up to appreciate the view of the man sprawled desperately across the bed, hands gripping at the sheets in frustration, sweat slicking delicious love-bitten skin.

“I love it,” Ryan sighs. “I’m going to make it such a mess, though,” he warns with a glint in his eye. Geoff nods enthusiastically and Ryan wraps his hand around his lover’s dick to stroke it firmly. He keeps stroking the shaft and teases the head with his tongue and lips, matching the pace that Geoff’s hips are determined to set. He recognizes the little signals - a muscle twitch here, a hitch of breath there - as Geoff starts to come.

“Fucking - yes, perfect - fuck, Ryan,” Geoff babbles desperately as he tips over the edge, his cum caught by Ryan’s eager mouth. “Merry fucking goddamn Christmas.”

Ryan wipes his mouth with the corner of his shirt and kisses Geoff’s softening head. “Merry Christmas, Geoff.”


	2. The Holiday Poster (JackGeoff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> horrificsmut [[mightbeanasshole](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbeanasshole)] said: check out this year's achievement hunter christmas poster. observe whatever interaction is going on between santa geoff and mrs. claus jack. PLS EXPLAIN IN A FIC.

Jack Missus Claus wakes at 4am on Christmas Eve. The entire day is devoted to cleaning the living room and dining room, cooking a feast for the family, and touching up the decorations around the factory. The elves have been working hard to get everything done by the Big Day, and Santa Geoff Claus is still putting the final touches on the Sleighborghini 2x14 for the flight. He wants them to have the perfect celebration after another year of such hard work.

As Jack fusses around the kitchen and the homey, festive factory, he finds elves taking little naps where they can - like Gavin under a work table and Lindsay in the scrap pile near the plushie production line. He makes sure they're warm and comfortable, leaving them little snacks for when they wake up. Even Santa Geoff ends up snoozing under the propped-up sleigh for a while, fingers still curled around his candy-striped wrench. Jack lets him rest a little while before waking him with hot coffee and fresh cookies so he can finish before it's time to take off.

The Big Night begins abruptly - despite doing this as long as they can remember, it always seems sudden when they go from Preparation to Execution - and before Jack can wish Geoff good luck, the Sleighborghini cheerfully splutters into the air overloaded with presents. Jack returns to tidying, planning the table arrangement, and especially making sure all the presents the elves have saved for each other are safely wrapped and arranged under the huge factory tree. Their gift exchange is always a long affair, but never fails to make everyone happy and pumped to start the new year of toymaking and child-judging.

It's after Geoff leaves and the elves have little to do that Jack starts finding things that rub him the wrong way. He leaves a room spotless only to return to a mess; he sets out cookies to cool and later discovers half of them have been stolen; he turns on Christmas music to add some atmosphere and the elves start throwing the bass balance out of whack when he's not watching the knobs. He's just glad most of the major work is done, and he tries to take calming breaths when he feels his frustration creeping in too deep - after all, it's the holiday season, and the elves are like family. He loves them, they love him, the whole cutesy Hallmark ideal.

Santa Geoff returns after his trip 'round the world, Ryan asleep beside him, and Jack's Claus senses tingle unpleasantly.

"Ho ho ho and shit," Geoff says as he slides out of the Sleighborghini. "I need a drink, Jack. Where's the good stuff?"

Jack puts on a smile. "I'll get it for you in a sec. Was the trip okay? Should I wake Ryan?"

"Trip was whatever. _Two_ Air Forces changed security codes _without_ notifying us, unless Kdin missed some _fucking important_ updates." Geoff sighs heavily, and Jack can tell how badly he wants to just push out of the hangar and get his drink on. "But these things fuckin' happen. Get Ryan, I think the dumbass is sick."

The next smile Jack offers is thinner, faded, but Geoff doesn't notice and simply heads for the kitchen. He hears the rattle of a discarded belt - _more to clean up,_ he thinks - as he gently taps Ryan's shoulder.

"Hey, you're home, big guy," Jack whispers. Ryan's almost cute as he sleeps, sort of angelic... until he wakes up and wastes no time in emptying his stomach on Jack's shoes. _Yeah, Geoff, you_ think _he's sick. Maybe._ Jack puts on his best Claus face and remembers this is Christmas, the most important day for the whole household, and it's sure to turn for the better.

It doesn't.

Geoff's return wakes the few other napping elves, and draws everyone's attention to a central place - the kitchen. All the prepared food is suddenly under several pairs of mischeivous eyes, and those elves with less disciplined hands take some early tastes of the feast. Though Jack is able to shoo them out, the presentation of the whole thing is just that much less elegant. He laments the time wasted, but once Ryan is put to bed with hot soup and Geoff is seated in his "Because I'm Fucking Santa" chair at the head of the dining table, Jack serves all the surviving dishes to an eager, hungry throng.

The cheerful noise of Christmas dinner almost eases Jack's concern, but still his Claus sense is jittery. He distracts himself from eating his own dinner and instead keeps drinks from spilling, hands from burning, Michael from screaming. He's always a step behind everyone at just the right time to catch a falling glass or interrupt an argument that would only escalate. It's satisfying to be so busy around everyone on most nights, but it's the night he'd prayed to have off - the night he needs to relax. Maybe after dinner, when everyone is occupied opening presents, things will even out.

They don't.

"That's it. That's fucking it, Santa Geoff."

"Huh?" Geoff looks up from his bottle. A crash echoes through the factory as Gavin sprints across their vision, followed shortly by an infuriated Michael. Lindsay trots over to the Clauses with a broken toy, pointing at Kdin with tears in her eyes. Caleb has fallen suddenly silent somewhere, to Jack's complete dismay, but he doesn't have the energy to investigate.

"I've spent this whole night making everything _just right_ for all you... you _savages."_ Jack takes off his apron and drops it on the floor. He takes Lindsay's toy, shoves it in Kdin's hands, and hisses, _"fix it,"_ while Matt conspicuously starts to put himself between Jack's line of sight and the curiously-quiet Ray and Jeremy. Jack doesn't have time to worry about what Matt's hiding; there's another crash as the enormous factory tree loses a branch. A branch with a Caleb attached.

"I was just... The star was crooked!?" Caleb offers weakly. Jack's face flushes red with anger and the poor elf scrambles to his feet to sprint away.

_"Michael! Gavin!"_ Jack Claus bellows. The two are in place in front of him almost immediately, recognizing the tone as his deadliest. He snatches the box Gavin is holding and hands it to Michael, who doesn't break Jack's gaze. "You can open your present." Michael tears at the paper immediately, running to show Lindsay what he got as Gavin stares at his own feet.

It doesn't take much silence to break Gavin. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he squeaks. "I won't steal any more presents, I'm sorry! I'll - I'll even deliver Rye-bread's presents to him! Can I do that? I promise I'll be good."

Jack breathes a sigh of relief. "Do it." He now turns to the suspicious trio, leveling a stare at them in the hopes one of them will confess without any fuss.

"Sorry, Jack," Jeremy and Ray say in unison. Ray holds up the object of their guilt - a ripped hat.

"What happened, Ray?"

"Well, Jeremy thought my hat was his, and I told him no, he left his in his room, and - well, we wrestled over it and it tore and I think it is Jeremy's..." Ray admits quietly.

"I'll take it. You know we have plenty of extra hats, okay?" Jack accepts the sad wreck and nods to the boys. "Now go finish opening presents. Santa Geoff will heat you all some warm milk when you're done, and everyone can have a good night's sleep. Understood?"

The elves nod and disperse, and finally the itch in the fringes of Jack's frayed nerves seems to calm. He needs a drink and some sleep, but it appears everything is in order enough that Geoff can handle the rest of the evening's work.

"Santa Geoff?" Jack Missus Claus returns to his husband's side with a weary smile. "You watch the kids, and get the dishes done. I'm going the fuck to sleep."

"Merry Christmas, Jack," Geoff says, tipping his bottle toward Jack like a toast.

"Merry fuckin' whatever and stuff."


	3. Raywood Angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anon said: Raywood angst, "I brought you roses, but you changed the locks."

Ryan sits in his parked car for what feels like an hour, mulling over what to say. He knows his tendency to stumble over his words, especially when things get serious, and he can already picture Ray losing patience. With his stomach in knots, Ryan picks up the bouquet of roses he was fortunate enough to get before the stores closed and pushes himself out to the sidewalk.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, practicing the phrase so his voice doesn’t crack as he speaks. He paces in the driveway for another couple minutes. Christ, he just wants this to be over, wants to be back in the house with Ray, wants to be enjoying a quiet Christmas playing _GTA_ and snuggling or something.

He gazes down at the roses. They’re in good shape for being one of the last bouquets available on Christmas Day. He picks off one browning petal and breathes in the silky scent of the flowers before he finally approaches the front door.

Muscles moving automatically, Ryan pulls his keys from his pocket and inserts the one for the house into the lock... but it doesn’t fit.

His stomach seems to plummet to the ground. Tears sting his eyes as he realizes what this means.

“Well.” Ryan sniffs and looks around the door, the windows, the welcome mat. “That didn’t take long.” His voice shakes and he smiles grimly at no one. With trembling hands, he sets the roses on the mat and turns to leave. “Merry Christmas, then.”


	4. Ramwood Establishing Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ohcrap-itsactuallymydivision](http://ohcrap-itsactuallymydivision.tumblr.com/) said: Some ramwood fluff with them first getting together would be cute. :3

Ryan is always nervous about ‘Secret Santas’ and tries to duck out of them when he can. Last year, he was out of town for the office Christmas party, so he didn’t have to participate, but he wouldn’t be visiting family this time around. He can’t avoid the meeting where everyone draws names, though fortunately he’s assigned a partner he’s fond of. Burnie sets the rules: gifts are to be worth between twenty and fifty dollars; all of them need to be wrapped and brought to the office party on the 23rd; tags can only say the recipient’s name, not their Santa; there will be extra candy prizes for people who can guess who their Santa is from the gift. Ryan nods along with everyone, though his thoughts are already wandering to what he can get for his friend.

He overhears Michael chattering with Geoff about their plans, the younger man expressing his excitement he’d drawn Gavin for the exchange. Ryan tries to focus on editing a video, but he’s hoping Geoff might let slip who he’s buying for; instead, Geoff just tells the curious Michael that he has a brilliant plan.

Time passes in a blur as the holiday rushes closer. Ryan debates getting Jack a good bottle of Jack Daniels or a specialty box of Cracker Jack, but he doesn’t want Jack to guess Barbara is his Santa. He mills around in a few stores, looking for something that just says ‘Jack’ to him; he wastes a few hours on the internet scrolling through Etsy stores for crafts that would suit him. Fortunately, he finds someone offering a customizable stuffed doll at a steep discount from their usual, and he sends them a message with a reference picture of Jack’s Minecraft skin to see if they’d be willing to make one.

The plushie arrives in the mail two days before the party, and he promptly messages the creator with gushing gratitude. He’s confident Jack will love his squishy counterpart, and he gently wraps the gift in a silly bag with a giant kitten on it. He can scarcely wait the remaining time for the party to arrive; he’s never been so sure of a gift before, and he completely forgets to wonder what he might be getting and from whom.

Suddenly, it’s the night of the party, and Ryan attends in the most wintery sweater he has. He mostly hangs on the fringes of the room with a Coke, chatting with Ray for much of the time. Gift exchange time arrives at long last, and a few cheerful staff in festive green outfits make sure everyone gets their present.

”Okay, let’s go clockwise,” Burnie instructs. Ryan turns his own gift over and over in his hands. It’s a while before his turn, so he gets to search the surface of this envelope for hints of who gave it to him. The envelope is matte gold with a white label on the front; the label says “Ryan Haywood” in a cursive font he recognizes, so there’s no handwriting giveaway. No stains or wrinkles on it, so it probably isn’t from Gavin.

Ryan’s turn is upon him and he smiles awkwardly back at everyone’s waiting stares. He tears open the envelope to find a crisp white card, completely blank on the outside. Peering in, he reads a message printed on a series of address labels, still not giving away his Secret Santa’s handwriting.

_Ryan;_

_Your gift is free dinner and drinks. Tonight, tavern up the street (you know the one)._

_Look for a bright red scarf. Enjoy your blind date._

Ryan’s cheeks flush red. He makes up something else the gift was - a certificate for a massage, how thoughtful after the Milkshake Incident - and only stays at the party for another few unwrappings. He’s too anxious to stay any later, not wanting to leave his date waiting. He know what he means to say - sorry, it’s very sweet, he’s sure whoever set them up means well, but he has his eyes on someone else - but what if they’re nice? Would he be passing up a chance at a really nice date because he’s fixated on one person?

He ducks out of the party and walks the few blocks to the pub. Anxiety makes his hands itch, and despite actively moving down the street, he feels restless. He paces outside the building for a couple minutes to try settling his nerves. It’s just a date, after all; if it’s someone he knows, surely they wouldn’t take offense to him being set on someone else. He hopes.

With a deep, slow breath, he leans against the wall outside the door and rehearses what he’ll say. _I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re great,_ he thinks, _but honestly? I’m into someone. In particular._ Ryan just knows he’s going to stumble when he tries to actually speak. He bites his lip and stares at his feet.

”I’m sorry, but I’m into Geoff,” he whispers. Keep it simple, then there’s less to fuck up. “I’m sorry, but I like Geoff. I have a crush on Geoff.” Maybe if it’s someone he doesn’t know it’ll be easier to act, easier to fake smoothness. Hopefully.

He pushes through the door into the tavern and looks out for a bright red scarf. It’s a bit taller an order this time of year, with Santa hats and Christmas sweaters everywhere, but it’s not cold enough out for scarves to be a common find. When he spots a vibrant streak over someone’s shoulder, his breath catches in his throat. His date. Everything seems so much more _real_ with his date... there. Existing. In front of him.

Eyes shut for the moment, he steers himself into the seat across from his date. He isn’t ready to look, not immediately.

”You gonna be playing blind our whole date or what, Ryan?” That voice. Jovial, familiar, like good beer and leather furniture. “Come on, I thought it was romantic as dicks.”

Ryan opens his eyes to take in the sight of Geoff, smiling easily and drumming his inked fingers on the table. The weight of the evening slides away, replaced by a fluttery, nervous bubble in Ryan’s chest. Excitement and a warm sort of terror wrap around him like an itchy blanket.

”So? You good with this? I hear you’ve been making eyes at me, and let’s be real, I’m a fuckin’ catch.” Geoff laughs, and Ryan joins with a soft chuckle. “No, in all seriousness, Ryan - if I got the wrong idea or somethin’, just say so--”

Ryan has to interrupt him. “Not at all, Geoff.” He can feel his cheeks turning hot. “I’ve been... yeah, I’ve had a pretty hard crush on you.”

”Well, good.” Geoff puts his hand over Ryan’s and grins at him. “I’ve had a pretty hard crush on you. So merry fuckin’ Christmas to both of us, right?”

Ryan laughs. “Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Geoff.”


	5. How To: Christmas Trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [spiritofsnows](http://spiritofsnows.tumblr.com/) said: How about Joel, Adam, Christmas decorations, and the sentence "it seemed like a good idea at the time"?

Burnie sighs heavily and rubs his eyes. “Alright, walk me through it one more time.”

Joel flashes his typical lopsided grin. “See, I wanted an office Christmas tree, because it’s not festive enough in here.”

Adam interrupts. “And I told him he couldn’t, because he’s an idiot and he’d burn down the building,” he explains, rubbing his uncharacteristically bare chin. “But he insisted.”

“I want to stress for you, again, that it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Joel pats Adam’s shoulder, just earning himself a glare from the younger man.

“Okay, but how did you get from wanting a Christmas tree for the office to melting Adam’s beard hair and landing him in the hospital?” Burnie’s voice is just on the edge of angry, but he keeps his hands folded and calm in front of him.

Adam stares expectantly at Joel, who cautiously begins to speak after a long enough awkward pause. “Well, I didn’t have Christmas tree lights, you see.”

“Uh-huh...” Adam urges him on with a gesture.

“But we had outdoor lights, you know, and I had an Adam. I mean, Adam is basically a tree.” Joel shifts in his chair, switching which leg he rests on his lap. “Right? He’s pretty much - I mean, he’s thick and - his beard was basically foliage, right?”

_“Was,”_ Adam emphasizes bitterly.

“So I wrapped Adam in the lights, wove some in his beard, and stood him in my office.” Joel gestures each step of the process, though Burnie is past being entertained by his movements. “He wanted to nap anyway, and so. You know, he could rest his eyes and stuff while he was my Christmas tree.”

“The part of the story he’s not getting to is when the lights heated up and we both smelled burning hair.” Adam glares at Joel again. “We panicked, and Joel yanked the lights off of me and...” He rubs his chin with a grimace. “Yeah. He tore some of my beard out, and some of what was left was still burned, and... I had to shave it...”

“So you just kind of... _let_ Joel wrap you in _outdoor Christmas lights_ , Adam?” Burnie asks in disbelief.

“Like he said,” Adam says, gesturing to Joel.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”


	6. Joelaywood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xanzs said: Oh may we have some xmas Joelayan (joel ray ryan) That starts with ANGST and is resolved with fluff and heck maybe some porn before the fluff hapy holidays!!!!

Ray’s about ready to snap. Ryan and Joel have been at each other’s throats for weeks, snapping over every slight whether real or imagined. Joel fidgets and clicks pens and watches Ryan for some sign of misbehavior whenever Ray has them over. Ryan at least feigns disinterest, but on more than one occasion, Ray catches him staring at Joel with his brow furrowed in frustration.

Whatever stick is up their butts needs to move if they’re gonna have a good Christmas, and Ray doesn’t know how to unravel the _thing_ between them in the slightest. It’s probably jealousy - definitely jealousy, he corrects himself. But knowing what it is and fixing it are two separate things. They’re both into Ray, not so much into each other, and he’s into both of them... Most people would tell him to just make a decision, pick one of them to date and make the other put up with it or something.

He knows already he can’t do that to either of them. They’re his friends. Friends he has massive crushes on. Crushes they both have made clear are mutual.

“Fuck.” Ray paces through his apartment, tossing sodas to each of his guests as he passes and winding back to his kitchen without a word to them. Joel is clicking his pen again, and he can hear it even over the whirring of his fridge. The question of what to do with them, how to relax or at least have a fun evening without flipping his shit over this silent catfight, plagues him thoroughly. _Mario Party_ is out of the question with tension already thick in the air; maybe they should watch a movie, but the likelihood of the three of them agreeing on one is fairly low, unless...

Ray marches back into the living room, where Ryan is checking his phone and Joel is clicking his pen against his leg. “We’re watching _Die Hard_ tonight. Perfect Christmas movie, right?”

Ryan shrugs. “Works for me.” Joel looks less enthused, but at least sets his pen down and gives Ray a nod of approval. Ray wrestles the two of them onto the couch with him, one on either side, and they both deliberately avoid looking past Ray’s knees so they don’t risk eye contact with each other.

Honestly, he should have seen the problems a mile away, but he blissfully immerses himself in the movie and a big bottle of Coke instead of giving logistics any thought. Barely twenty minutes go by before the mood sours again; Ryan none-too-subtly drapes his arm over Ray’s shoulders. While Ray would love a good movie cuddle, he can feel Joel’s muscles go taut on his other side. No fair to Joel, right?

“Sorry, Rye,” he whispers, sliding the larger man’s arm away. He does, however, take Ryan’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Joel takes his other hand, looking over top of Ray’s head with a glare toward Ryan. “This works, right?” Ray asks quietly.

The men are silent for a moment before Ryan leans over and kisses the top of Ray’s head. “It’s great, Ray.”

“Yeah,” Joel says quickly. Not to be outdone, he plants a kiss of his own on Ray’s temple and twines their fingers together. “Merry Christmas, Ray.”

“Merry Christmas, guys.”


	7. Ramwood & Mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> carpathyah said: Ramwood and Mistletoe! First kiss or est. relationship, doesn't matter

“Always with the Cokes, Ryan.” Geoff’s voice slurs, lips pleasantly abuzz with whiskey. “Here, lemme find you some rum to go with that, it’ll be tasty as dicks.”

Ryan laughs and puts a hand on Geoff’s arm to stop him from reaching for the varied bottles of booze on Burnie’s table. “It’s alright, seriously. I’m enjoying my drink.” He looks around the party, frowning thoughtfully. “Where’s Gavin? Or Michael? I would’ve expected them to be glued to you.”

Geoff chuckles. “Probably off suckin’ dicks or whatever, you know.” He edges a little closer to Ryan. “Been meaning to talk to you anyway, actually, if you got a minute.”

“Sure,” Ryan answers automatically, and after a moment his brow furrows. “Is it serious?”

“As a heart attack, dude.”

Concern floods Ryan’s face and he leans in, searching Geoff’s expression for hints of just how worried he needs to be right now. “Go ahead, Geoff.”

The deep breath Geoff begins with doesn’t bode well. “Well, it’s... you know, it’s a feelings thing; it’s kinda touchy.” He wobbles a little and leans against the wall. “But I’ve been meaning to talk to you, and... I dunno, I mean, it’s a big deal but I don’t wanna make a big deal out of it, you know?”

“Not really, honestly.” Ryan bites his lip. “You can just say whatever’s on your mind, you know.” He rests his hand hesitantly on Geoff’s shoulder, uncertain if it’s the appropriate thing but more concerned with his friend.

“You guys!” Michael abruptly stumbles beside them, followed soon by Gavin. Both of them grin broadly at Ryan and Geoff, and Gavin points to the ceiling with a giggle.

It takes Ryan a moment to realize Gavin isn’t pointing; he’s holding a sprig of mistletoe with the clear intent of waving it over their heads. Geoff laughs and leans against Ryan easily, comfortably, and it makes Ryan feel a little fluttery.

“Come on, then!” Gavin urges, shaking the mistletoe insistently. “Give us a kiss!”

Ryan feels his cheeks flush richly. He isn’t entirely sure what’s appropriate now - Geoff had _just_ been trying to tell him something - but his fears are eased as Geoff’s hand cups his cheek and pulls him in for a kiss.

Michael and Gavin cheer as Ryan hugs Geoff close, their kiss going on longer than any of the four men likely expected. As they pull away for air, Geoff grins lopsidedly and rests his head on Ryan’s shoulder. Gavin claps excitedly and darts off to find another couple to bother with his plant, and Michael gives Geoff and Ryan a big thumbs-up before running off to join him.

“Mm. So, what were you trying to say...?” Ryan asks quietly.

“Haha, honestly... Gav’s stupid mistletoe did it for me.” Geoff kisses the corner of Ryan’s mouth. “I’m kinda stupid into you.”

“Oh, is that all?” Ryan’s face burns hot, and he’s certain he’s blushing like mad. “And you had to be drunk at a Christmas party to tell me that?” He hugs Geoff again, squeezing fondly.

“Dude, Ryan, you’re intimidating as dicks,” Geoff slurs with a smile. “Wanna kiss me again, though? Cause that was pretty sweet.”

“Absolutely.”


	8. Micheoff in Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon said: Micheoff please? Anything you want is fine!

Mars doesn’t have much to offer, even after the terraforming, but it’s a stop on plenty of freight lines, and that makes it a prime location for a good tavern. At least, that’s how Geoff landed here, serving drinks to weary travelers both human and alien. The majority are humans coming by on their way in and out of the system, especially if they don’t have the money or connections for a decent stop on Earth, and all of them have the kinds of stories Geoff likes to hear - a romance cut short on Orion’s Belt, a smuggler’s encounter with law enforcement narrowly escaped by dodging between Pluto and Charon, political intrigue on Kepler-186f. He keeps a journal of the best ones tucked under the bar, scribbling in it discreetly after hours. Someday, he tells himself, he’ll put it all in a proper data pad, make something really exciting out of it. In the meantime, he’s content to keep pouring fingers of Callistan whiskey and occasionally something blue with a hand-written label that says “waTER”.

Geoff is getting the bar ready to open, sorting a new shipment of Titanic pale ales, when the door bleeps in its override tone and slides open.

“We’re closed!” he calls out, assuming the override is a glitch. “Opens up in half an hour--”

“I’m not here to drink,” the stranger interrupts. Geoff finally looks up from his beers, sighing at the sight of a Solar Alliance uniform. The stranger’s a young man, with a round, freckled face and curly hair just longer than regulation; he’s probably not long out of training, by Geoff’s guess. He glances at his Earth calendar - Alliance stubbornly sticks to it - and notes the especially odd date of this guy’s visit.

“Christmas Eve and you’re on a Mars assignment?” Geoff pushes a button on the bar console and brings up two clean glasses. “You need a drink.”

The Alliance stranger shakes his head and slides a data pad from his belt. “You the owner of this place?”

“No, but he’s off-world. I’m in charge.” Geoff offers a hand. “Geoff Ramsey.”

“Michael Jones.” The kid shakes his hand. “Enforcer, Class C.” He holds up his data pad for Geoff to see his credentials, but Geoff just turns and starts to fill the glasses with beer from the taps.

“You know, most Earth military still use actual military ranks,” Geoff comments idly. Jones rolls his eyes.

“The Solar Alliance isn’t military--” He stops when he notices Geoff is mouthing the words along with him, mocking him. “Forget it.”

“Well, Enforcer Jones, what can I help you with?”

Jones flicks through a few screens on his data pad before sliding it across the bar toward Geoff. “You seen this guy?” Geoff picks up the pad to look closely at the image - a human with sandy hair and broad shoulders.

“Looks familiar - might’ve come in once or twice. Bad tipper.” Geoff passes the pad back. “What’s it matter to the Alliance?”

“Classified,” Jones answers. “All I can say is we need him and we have reason to believe he frequents your tavern.”

“I see.” Geoff offers Jones a beer, and to his surprise, the kid takes it. “Well, if he frequents here, why don’t you stay for the evening? Maybe we’ll spot him.”

“Good idea, have the obvious uniformed dude hang out and look for someone on the run. Nice thinkin’, boss.” Jones takes a swig of beer. “Unless you’ve got spare civilian clothes that’d fit me, I’d better--”

_“Actually...”_ Geoff beckons for Jones to come around the bar. “Come on back, I probably have something.” He leads the kid to his lost-and-found closet, picking through it for something roughly his size. “Here, try these - and with this jacket - there you go, you’ll fit right in.”

Jones squints at the worn-out clothes he’s handed - a pair of vintage jeans with holes in the knees, a black sleeveless turtleneck, and a leather jacket with a deep scuff on the shoulder. “Who leaves their pants at a bar?” He glances at Geoff for an answer, but the barkeep merely shrugs.

“Lucky for you they did, however it happened. Get dressed, I can keep your uniform back here safe and sound.” To Geoff’s surprise, Jones starts changing without hesitation, and the barkeep is treated to the sight of pale, freckled skin over taut muscle as the uniform shirt comes off. Unable to help himself, Geoff whistles appreciatively. “Alliance should send boys out to Mars more often.”

Jones shoots him a look, but it melts into a grin after a moment. “Flatterer.” He pulls on the turtleneck, and Geoff finds the emphasis on Jones’ arms more flattering than any compliment he could pay him. “They don’t all look this good, Mr. Ramsey. Sorry to disappoint.” He slides out of his uniform slacks and Geoff has to brace himself against the wall.

“Just Geoff is fine, Jones,” he manages to say, instead of something inappropriate about the enforcer’s ass.

“Great, Mr. Geoff.” Jones has the cockiest grin Geoff thinks he’s ever seen, and _damn_ he likes it. “Thanks for the clothes.”

“Sure. Now I’d better finish getting ready to open.” Geoff excuses himself to the front of the bar and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself as he gets the last few Titanic ales put away. He makes sure all his taps are working properly, checks that the liquors are still properly sorted and any low bottles have replacements nearby, and powers up the “OPEN” sign just as Jones returns from the back.

“Found a hat I liked, too,” Jones says, pointing to the striped knit cap he’s tugged over his curls. “Thanks again for this.”

“Well, it’s Christmas, right?” Geoff smiles, directs Jones to a seat with a good view of the door, and slides him his beer. “And in that spirit, your drinks are on me. Just don’t mention it to anyone, yeah?” Geoff winks and moves down the bar to welcome his first few customers, leaving Jones with a warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how this happened but if you like it and want more, drop me a note at [my tumblr](http://ryanslostfootage.tumblr.com) because I could probably write more of this weird AU if there's interest.


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